


Apparently the Same Rules Don't Apply

by readercat



Category: Filth (2012), Filth (2013), X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for Filth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readercat/pseuds/readercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you've read the novel Filth, you know that the ending is, well...abrupt.  I always thought there should be something more.  Takes place immediately following the ending of Filth.  Bruce finds that the same rules don't always apply and, for once, that might mean something good.</p>
<p>03/10/16:  Fic's not dead, only sleeping (I swear). </p>
<p>Just a note:  My fic is based off the Bruce from the novel, not the movie (it's just a coincidence that he looks like McAvoy, lol).  As excellent as the movie is, it *does* differ somewhat from the book.  Sooo...If you've only seen the movie and are reading this story, wondering to yourself, "WTF is Readercat on about!?  I don't remember X, Y, or Z happening!", now you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on the novel Filth by Irvine Welsh. I posted it in the XMFC RPF because I may link it to an XMFC fic that I've been working on (and because the movie stars James McAvoy, I can't think of Bruce now without imagining Prof X's baby blues). 
> 
> My sincere apologies to the people of Scotland for the my attempt to emulate the feel of Mr. Welsh's novel, via the dialect. 
> 
> Ch 7 has a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo from everyone's favorite telepath (you'll hear from him again before it's all over).
> 
> This fic is unbeta-ed. I welcome constructive criticism. Please be gentle, though--this is my first fanfic EVER.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the novel Filth, you know that the ending is, well...abrupt. I always thought there should be something more, so here it is...
> 
> Takes place immediately following the ending of Filth. Bruce finds that the same rules don't always apply and, for once, that might mean something good.

**1**

 

Like most people on a massive downward spiral, I dinnae realize how badly I’d cocked it up until it was too late tae fix things. All I could think leading up tae the grand finale was, “I’ll show that fuckin’ cow. This is all her fault. Leave Bruce Robertson, will ya?! Well, you won‘t soon be forgettin’ me, ya hoor!”

 

Real fuckin’ genius, I was.

 

Certainly didnae bank on the stupid cow bringing the bairn tae our little meet and greet (after all, I _did_ tell her that ah wanted tae talk aboot the divorce). Naw, that wasnae part of the plan at all. Instead of seeing Carole get her “comeuppance” (something that she‘d done nothing‘ tae deserve), mah last image before everything goes black is mah wee Stacey screaming in horror ‘cause her bam Da’ just offed ’imself in front of her and is swinging fae the rafters. And, worse, she’s probably gonnae spend the rest of her life thinking it’s all her fault (that‘s what I‘d wrote on mah shirt, ya see: ‘You Did This‘).

 

Yeah, like I said, real fuckin’ genius.

 

Well, at least the worm’s gone. And, ah suppose, the eczema. Hey--every cloud’s got tae have its silver lining, right?

 

Now taking intae consideration the afore-mentioned offing of mahself, you’re probably wondering how it is that I’m managing to relate all of this tae you. Tae be honest, I’ve kinda been wondering aboot that mahself. Like I said before, everything went black--I cannae say how long--then I realized that I could, well…realize. I have tae say that revelation was a wee shock, tae say the least. I mean, had I really snuffed it or had it all been a dream--just some horrible nightmare and _that_ Bruce and the life I remembered pishing away was just the after-effects of a bad curry? Was I gonna crack open the ol’ mince pies and find mahself back in mah own bed, shaken and stirred, but otherwise whole? Sadly, that wouldnae seem tae be the case. Looks like it was all real--which ironically is a nightmare of sorts, one fae which I can never awaken, never escape. I have no choice but tae own it. It was all me--all mah fault. Yeah, it was all mah fault. Heh--again with the irony. Shame, it‘s taken dying tae make me see the utter fuck up I’ve made of mah life and how I‘ve hurt everyone around me.

 

A bit late in the game for regrets and realizations, but better late than never, though. Right?

 

As for what’s now, I reckon I could be a ghost--trapped in Purgatory, doomed tae wander the earth, reliving mah fuck ups over and over until Judgment Day when I finally face The Almighty and accept punishment for mah vast multitude of sins:  murder, rape, adultery, drugs--just to name a few. That’s the most likely scenario, given that I was an utter cunt in life. It’s certainly no less than I deserve. That being said, I don’t think that I would be here--that is, have this _‘consciousness’_ , if I wasnae meant tae fix things, tae make right the wrongs that I‘ve done.

 

So (and this is really scary)…maybe what this is, is a second chance. No’ just working behind the scenes _in spiritu_ , but a real second chance. It would explain a lot--why, little by little, I’m becoming _more_. I mean, at first, I was just _aware_ , then I could sort of get a sense of mah body, and how now I’m starting tae _see_. I can see what’s around me, sort of--it‘s really more of a sense of familiarity right now than anything else. But it seems tae be happening quite rapidly, at this point. When I’m near a window or mirror or something shiny, I can almost see mah reflection now (still tryin’ tae figure oot how I’m getting fae place tae place, though--quite frustratin‘, I must say). I seem tae get the impression that the face lookin’ back at me is much younger than ah remember--how I looked back before the drugs n’ drink n’ hoorin’ put their stamp on mah coupon.  This wouldnae be happening if I wasnae meant tae be doin’ somethin’ more, more than ghostin’ around wailing over mah wrongs. Right?

 

Mind ya now, am’no’ bleatin’ aboot getting back the life I had--it was too broken, and anyway ah ken that Carole and Stacey are better off wi’oot me. What I’m talking aboot is a real chance tae try tae set right some wrongs, fix some of what I broke. Tae, well…I was gonnae say tae make for what I’ve done, but ah ken that nothin’ short of turning back the clock can ever undo that damage--and who‘s tae say I wouldnae make the same mistakes, anyway. I guess all ah want is tae find a way tae mitigate some of the hurt I‘ve brought tae so many. Yeah, I’ve got a lot tae atone for and a lot of cunts, er, people tae make it up tae: Bladesey ( _God! Bladesey_ , I‘m sorry, mate), Shirley, Bunty, Inglis, Toal, Drummond, Lennox--just tae name a few. Mostly, I want tae make things better for mah girls and ease the way for them to have a better life. Ya ken, let Stacey and Carole know, somehow, some way, that it wasnae _them_ \--it was me. Something was wrong with _me_.

 

All of mah adult life, I’ve used my skills, my knowledge, my very _will_ , tae systematically destroy everything around me. Looking back at the complete fuckery that was mah life, I see the wide swathe of destruction left by one Bruce Robertson and I want tae weep. Now, without the desires of the flesh distracting me, I’ve finally gotten that ‘moment of clarity’ that I’ve needed for so long. “Shuffling off this mortal coil”, has made it so much easier tae see. What’s that saying: ’Hindsight’s 20/20‘? Well, I ken now for a fact that it’s true. I see now that I have the power to _create_ , tae make something better.

 

Now, I’ve just got tae figure oot how this new existence works so I can get on with being Mr. Fix-it. And who knows? If things go doon the path I suspect, maybe along the way I can find for mahself a life that I can be proud of living. For the tame being, I’m just running on instinct…and, dare I say, _hope_.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch 2 deals with Bruce's recent development of 'non-corporealism' (his word--not mine, lol).

**2**

 

Due to mah recent state of ‘non-corporealism’ (is that even a word? Heh--ah suppose it is now.), I’d kind of lost track of tame. Seems mah ‘transition period’ from ghostie tae what ever it is ah am now didnae take nearly as long as I’d thought. One minute, here I am ghostin’ aboot, unable to even ken where ah am, hoping tae able tae see mah own reflection--nothin‘ tae do but think. Next minute ahm bashing me heid into a door frame in mah hoose, and naked as the day ah was born. Seems mah what I thought was ages was really only a couple of days. Tame in the ethers runs funny, what can I say?

 

Ah could hear people moving aboot the place, and upon completing a bit of reconnoitering, realized that the hoose is infested with a cleaning crew. They were clearing oot all of the trash and other filth that had accumulated (that I had allowed to accumulate), packing away all of mah belongings tae donate tae the Church (ah reckon that Carole didnae want any reminders) and seemingly readying the hoose for mah wake.

 

After mah reconn, mah first order of business was tae find some clothes. It’s winter still, and fookin’ cold it is--besides, I can hardly run aboot naked. What would the neighbours think…? Heh! I sneak back to mah bedroom, hoping that the cleaners had no’ yet made it upstairs, and begin my search. No luck. What the fook am I gonnae do now? Ah! The attic--the scene of the crime. I remember that there was a trunk in the attic that still had some of mah old clothes. They’re probably mildewed and too small, but it’d better than nothing.

 

So…up to the attic I sneak. I cannae stop the shudders that run doon my spine, seeing the location of what I thought was mah final act on this earth. How could I have been so stupid? I carefully, quietly climb intae the dusty attic and spy the trunk--just where I remembered. I get it open and…Result! Wonder of wonders, ah manage tae find some old athletic wear, some casual wear, and even an old suit that had no’ yet been pilfered. All was indeed an bit musty, but much tae mah surprise, everything still fit. Then I get a guid look at mahself in an old mirror and realize why. Gone is the graying hair, the lines on mah face, the dark circles under mah eyes, the haggard complexion. I am young again. I still look like me, but ah look like mahself before the drugs and booze took hold. Before everything got completely oot of control. I touch mah face in wonder and I cannae help but stare. I’d forgotten that I was handsome once.

 

I quickly dress in a pair of old trousers and a button-doon shirt. I take the clothes I’ve gathered and pack them in an old duffle bag fae mah early days in the craft, that I managed tae scratch up. Now I joost need shoes and a coat and I’ll be set. For what I cannae say. I had hoped tae make a completely new start, but for the moment I shall have tae return to a life of crime in order to become properly shod--though ah suppose it’s nae really stealing since ahm pilferin’ me own stuff. Mah belongings have been packed away tae be gifted tae the needy--and what ahm ah right now but needy? Ah, at last, _shoes_ and a _coat!_ Excellent!

 

Ahm needing a bit o’ cash, as well, seeing as there’s nae food in the hoose and ahm hungry. Ahm thinking ah had an emergency stash o’ cash hidden somewhere aboot the place. Figures though, ye hide it so ye willnae spend on the frivolous, but when ye need it--ye cannae remember where in the fook ye hid it. _Think, Robbo!_ Where would a wee bastard like yourself hide your cash tae keep it safe? Where? Where do ye never go? Ah, the bairn’s room! The top of her closet above the door jamb. Result! Only a few quid there, but right now I feel richer than the Queen of fookin’ England. Ah throw on me shoes and coat, crab my cash, dig the spare key out fae under the back door mat and I am off.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets something to eat and works on his 'cover story'. Bacon comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter

I find mahself in a unique position (yeah, ah _do_ ken the irony of that statement): I have cash and no one tae answer to, but for once have no desire tae spend it on hoors or drink or Charlie… even on smokes. It feels strange--oot of everything that’s happened tae me, this seems the most surreal. Ah’ve spent all mah adult life feeding the hungers of the flesh, so tae no’ have that _need_ filling me, riding me, _killing_ me…it’s…ahm nae sure ah can find the words tae describe it. I feel…strangely empty, but not hollow. Ah feel like what’s gone isnae a loss, but a purging. Ah feel… _clean_ and good--strong, in a way ah‘ve never felt before. At this point, though, ah’d have tae say that any lingering feeling of emptiness is due tae the fact ahm aboot tae starve mahself tae death.

 

Ahm still lookin’ for a meal, but ah have tae avoid mah old haunts (heh!) for the tame being. Ol’ Robbo will have tae incognito fae now forth. Wouldnae do tae have some cunt recognize me before ah’ve got me a proper cover story tae give oot. The most logical scenario would be tae pose as a long-lost or distant relative--that would be the easiest way tae make contact wi’ mah girls and give me a way tae offer mah help wi’ oot seeming overly suspect _(“I’m a distant relative. I was in town and heard aboot poor Bruce and I come tae pay me respects.”)_. _What?_ It could work…joost need tae work on mah delivery. Ah, well. There’s no problem a good bacon roll wouldnae solve. Everything’s better wi’ bacon.

 

And ah was right! Here ah’ve barely settled in with mah bacon roll, and not only am I already fleshing oot mah cover story, but ahm also tackling the issue of where ahm gonnae rest mah weary heid. I doubt that Carole would be willing tae stay in the hoose, seeing as what happened there, so I figure for the tame being, it will be safe tae drag a few supplies back tae the attic and make a wee nest for mahself. It’s dry and the heat willnae be turned off while it’s yet winter. I’ll joost have to be very stealthy--it wouldnae do tae get caught oot. Ah’ll probably need some new clothes, as well. What I managed tae salvage fae the hoose are quite serviceable, but it comes tae mind that Carole bought most of mah clothes, so no doubt she would recognize them on me--especially the suit. Ah suppose ah can go tae the charity bins and pick oot some clothes, perhaps trade the ones I have now. After all they were intended for tae go tae charity anyway. Funny how that works, eh? So…next stop ‘clothes shopping’, then tae the grocers tae purchase some cheap non-perishables and toiletries.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce prepares for the Big Day (his wake) and comes up with the start of a new identity.

**4**

Things are moving along nicely wi’ mah plans. Ah went tae the charity bins and found me a enough clothing tae make do for a few days. Ah’d gotten a few looks of alarm fae some of the jakeys at the homeless shelter--oh, yes, they have guid reason to remember Bruce Robertson’s smiling’ coupon--but the moment passed wi’ oot incident, and otherwise no one has seemed tae notice. Ah then made a stop at the Tesco’s for supplies and a did a bit of scouting tae find oot the details of mah wake--wouldnae want tae be late tae me own funeral now, would I? Heh! And now it’s back tae the hoose tae get some rest and work further on me plans.

 

So…ah’ve snuck back intae the hoose (which in the tame ah’ve been oot has been spiffed up nicely) and stowed away mah purchases and acquisitions. The wheels have been turning in mah head as I lay aboot plotting oot how tae make mah grand entrance, so ahm mildly shocked tae find mahself engaged in a jaw-cracking yawn, the ol’ mince pies suddenly heavy. It has joost turned full dark and I never sleep at night--suffered fae insomnia for years. Hmmm…interesting. Mah last thought before I fall heid-long intae a deep and dreamless sleep is that, for once, I don‘t give an Aylesbury‘s what tame it is--ah feel surprisingly safe and snug in mah wee nest and…

 

Morning cometh like a sledge-hammer tae the baws. Ah scrub at mah eyes and try tae remember what died in mah mouth. It would seem that ahm still no’ a morning person--a small comfort tae know that no‘ everything has changed. I allow mahself a wee chuckle before remembering that today is day. Ah, yes. The big day has arrived. Tame for the world-at-large tae pay their respects tae one Bruce Robertson: (shite) Husband, (shite) Father, (shite) Friend, (shite) Polis (you see the pattern forming here, too, eh?)--while, unbeknownst tae all, he walks amongst them.

 

Ahm still alone in the hoose, so ah take advantage of the facilities. I hang mah ‘new’ suit up so the wrinkles can steam out while ah indulge in a nice hot shower and wash mah hair (remembering tae leave the window cracked in the bath so that the windows donnae fog up--cannae have folks getting suspicious, right?). After, ah shave (remember, ahm going incognito here), clean mah teeth, and get dressed. I cannae help but stop tae admire mahself in the mirror. I have tae admit, ah look guid. Under other circumstances, looking like this, I would’ve had fanny lining up oot the door for a shot at ol’ Robbo.

 

Too bad ah wouldnae stick tae what I had here at home.

 

Shaking off mah regrets, I take one last look at mahself, grab mah coat, and take off oot the back door (wouldnae be the first tame, heh!). Mah immediate plan is tae find something tae eat and kill some tame, returning aboot half-way intae the affair (wouldnae do tae be the first tae arrive)--I need the distraction of other people aboot so that Carole cannae focus solely on me. Wouldnae do tae allow too much scrutiny. Over a nice bacon roll, ah contemplate a guid name for mahself. That’s the only immediate item that is continuing tae elude me. All ahm sure of is that ah cannae use Robertson--that was mah step-father’s name. Or Bruce, obviously. It would probably be best tae use mah mother’s maiden name as mah surname, but ah don’t know. Carole didnae really know mah relatives, so ah suppose ahm free tae do what ah wish in that respect. Ha! By all rights, I should be using Sean Connery--fookin’ 007 ahm turning intae!

 

So, names. Charles? Naw. Tom? You cannae be serious!? James…? Close, but no. How aboot Brian…? That’s no a bad name, no bad at all. Well, then--Brian, it is. Now for a surname. How about Ferguson? Hmmm...Brian Ferguson. Close enough tae mah own name that I won’t forget mahself when being addressed, but not close as tae cause suspicion. Guid, solid Scottish name.  Ah like it.  Yes, that will do very nicely, indeed.

 

Now it’s getting tae be that tame. Well, Brian Ferguson? Are ye ready tae gird yer loins and go pay respect tae your newly departed distant cousin: that poor, tragic wee bastard, Bruce Robertson?

 

Showtime!

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce (or Brian, rather) initiates contact...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter

****

**5**

 

Ah approach the front door of mah hoose and ahm surprised, or tae be honest (mah new policy, more or less), surprised that ahm surprised tae find mahself trembling. What if Carole answers the door? Or wee Stacey? After aw, ahm only aboot tae face the woman ah drove away and mah bairn, who likely now thinks it’s her fault what ah did tae mahself. What’s there tae be afraid of? Well, ah have tae face them some tame--that’s the plan after aw. Might as well be a man for once and confront mah fears. Mah story is fair solid. Ah‘ve got a guid, unassuming name and even a perfectly believable reason tae be here--and besides, ah mean, who, for fook’s sake, is going tae believe that ahm Bruce Robertson, returned fae the ethers, right? Still, mah stomach knots up and mah trembling hands start tae sweat and as ah take a deep, shaking breath and press the buzzer.

 

The wait seems interminable and ah nearly jump fae mah skin as ah finally hear footsteps nearing the door. The clicking of heels…oh, fook! Carole! Ahm no’ ready! But it’s too late--the door is opening.

 

She opens the door, mah girl…Carole, and her face turns white as a ghost when she spies mah coupon and ah fear that she is going tae collapse fae shock. In fact, nae sooner than the thought runs through mah heid, she grabs the door frame as her knees start tae buckle.

 

No’ thinking, ah dart forward tae catch her fall and she jerks away wi’ a gasping cry of…fear...or shock, maybe both, and falls backward ontae her erse. Ah stop joost short of touching her and stand frozen as she gapes at me, her white face still alarmingly white and her eyes never leaving mah face--nae doubt mine looks quite the same. - Bruce?! - she says hoarsely, fearfully.

 

Fae mah years in the craft, ah ahm used tae fast thinking in crisis situations and ah quickly snap out of mah stasis, diving intae mah new role. -Bruce? - ah hope ah manage tae look convincingly confused - No! No--mah name is Brian. Brian Ferguson. Are you awright, miss? Ahm sorry--ah didnae mean tae alarm you. - ahm gratified tae see some of the fear leave her eyes and a little bit of the color start tae creep back intae her face and ah offer mah (still trembling) hand - May ah help you up? -

 

Never taking her eyes off ay me, she cautiously allows me tae take her hand and help tae her feet.  Tae be allowed tae touch her again is a combination of both heaven and hell.  Heaven because it's her, Carole, mah beautiful girl.  Hell, because ah have tae suppress the urge tae pull her close and ah cannae tell her how sorry ah am for what ah've done tae her - Ahm sorry tae have startled you. - ah say again - Ahm related tae Mr. Robertson, on his mother‘s side. Ah’ve been visiting Edinburgh, looking for work and aw, and ah heard aboot poor Bruce’s passing. Ah joost wanted tae stop by and pay mah respects tae him and his family.  Are you a relative…? -

 

For the most part the fear has faded fae her, but I cannae describe the look in her lovely dark eyes now because so many other conflicting emotions are flickering through them: shock, hate, hope, disgust, wistfulness, disappointment, mistrust, happiness, regret, all swirled taegether...along with even a bit of what ah am both startled and humbled tae see might be...love. - I'm his wife... _was_ his wife. - she says and the weight of the emotion behind hers words is staggering.

 

\- Oh - ah say awkwardly, not all faked - Ahm sorry for your loss, Ms. Robertson... -

 

\- Carole. Please, call me Carole. - she says absently and continues tae stare at me - You...you look like him. - she says - You look joost him when we first met. If I didnae know better… - and she reaches up like she’s going tae touch mah face but, as ah did wi’ her, she stops herself joost short and draws her hand back.

 

The look of guilt and remorse that ah give her is genuine.  Ah dinnae mean tae cause her more pain - Ah dinnae ken. Ah wouldnae have come if ah’d known. - a wee lie, but all for the greater good - Ah donnae want tae upset anyone. If you‘d like me tae leave… - ah cannae leave yet, so ah give her a look fae under mah lashes. Ah ken that Carole always loved mah big blue eyes, so in order tae achieve mah goal ah must use them tae mah full advantage.  Manipulative, yeah, but necessary.

 

\- No! No, please, Mr. Ferguson...Brian, stay. - she says. Result! - I doubt anyone else from Bruce’s family will come and he should have family here. Please, come inside. -

 

\- Well...If you’re sure - ah say, and ah step across the threshold intae the hoose.  Success! 

 

 

　

　


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crisis of conscience causes Bruce, er Brian, to rethink his game plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK--I'm about 1/2way through this thing now...

****

**6**

 **

 

**

Once ahm actually intae the foyer, my initial sense of euphoria at my success fades and ahm gripped by a nearly overwhelming combination of guilt and terror. Ah am a man aboot tae face the daughter he offed himself in front of--the daughter who nae doubt blames herself for what mah cowardice has brought aboot. Typical of me. Ah didnae stop tae consider how seeing me would affect mah bairn. Ah only thought of what _I_ can do--never stopping tae ask mahself what they _needed_. I cannae do that tae her. And seeing Carole struggling tae make me, Bruce‘s ‘family’, feel welcome even as her face is still white wi’ strain…what kind of man am ah that I would hurt them again? Ah have tae stop this. Now. Ah’ll joost have tae find another way tae help them.

 

\- Carole…Mrs. Robertson…? - ah say. She turns tae look at me. - Ah should go. You have a child, yeah? Ah dinnae stop tae think that seeing me, if ah look that much like your husband might…well, might nae be guid for her, ken? Ah’ve already upset you--ah don’t want tae upset your bairn. You’ve been kind enough tae me already, under the circumstances. Ah wouldnae feel right, upsetting your child on top of everything else that you’re going through. Please, accept mah condolences. - Ah turn tae leave.

 

Carole puts her hand on mah arm. - Brian? Wait…please, don’t go. I think it would do guid tae have you here. - She sighs and rubs a her hand wearily over her face and lowers her voice a bit - Ah ken that you’re not aware, but Bruce…he killed himself--in front of Stacey. I think he meant tae do it in front of me. I’d like tae think that, anyway. - a tear runs doon her face and mah heart breaks - But Stacey hasnae had an easy time of it. Bruce was no’ the best father tae our daughter--her memories of him…well, she doesnae have many guid ones. I think she needs tae see that…maybe seeing you can help her memories of her father no’ be all bad. Just let me talk tae her first. -

 

Listening tae her words, ah feel mah chest getting tight. Mah eyes feel hot and ah cannae look at her. Ah always kenned, deep-doon (sometames nae so deep-doon), that ah was no’ a guid father--not a guid man--but hearing someone else say the words oot-loud fills me wi’ an even deeper sense of shame for the man that ah was. Ah suppose ah could justify it aw by saying that ah dinnae have a guid role-model: ah was abused by mah step-father and mah biological father was a psychopath, after aw--ah never learned tae how tae have a healthy, loving relationship wi‘ others. But the harsh truth is that there is nae excuse--ah ken right fae wrong. And ah _chose_ tae do wrong.

 

Ah spent aw mah tame hoorin’ aboot, and wondering when and where ah was gonnae score mah next hit of Charlie or mah next drink, and thinking aboot and resenting aw of the injoostices done tae me (both real and perceived)--using those thoughts as fuel tae further feed mah self-indulgence. Ah should have been looking after mah girls. Ah should have been the kind of father tae Stacey ah had always wanted… _no_ \--ah should have been the kind of father that _she_ had always wanted. Ah should have made sure that Stacey kenned she was loved. Instead ah treated her as an inconvenience and even blamed her for the breakup of mine’s and Carole’s marriage--blaming it on her “lies” (truths) for Carole knowing aboot the other women and aw. Yeah, she deserved better than me awright. They both did.

 

As all of these thoughts race through mah mind, ah realize that Carole is waiting for me tae respond, but ah donnae ken what tae say. Will mah being here really be guid for Stacey or ahm ah joost trying tae rationalize staying. Or ahm ah trying tae rationalize leaving, because ahm too much of a coward tae face her? At last, ah say - Do you really think that it would help her? Ah donnae want tae traumatize her any further. Seems she‘s been through enough. Seems like you both have. -

 

\- I want you tae stay, Brian. Please. - she says. - Come inside. Just for a little bit. You can meet some of Bruce’s colleagues from the polis while I will talk tae Stacey. If she‘s no‘ ready tae meet you, I‘ll let you know and you can leave then, if you want. -

 

Ahm still no‘ sure aboot this now, but - Awright. - ah say - If that’s what you think will be best, ah’ll stay for a bit. - and once again, ah step intae the hoose.

 

　

　

　

 

 


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian is creeped out and depressed by Bruce's wake. Bruce's former nemesis, Amanda, seems rather taken with Brian (much to his dismay). Oh, and there's a blink-and -you'll-miss-it cameo from Prof X.

**7**

I have tae say, attending mah own wake is a something that ah could have done wi’ oot, though it seems ah have little choice if ah wish tae accomplish mah goals. But aw the same…knowing what ah know, it‘s creepy as fook. Even though mah… _Bruce‘s_ body has been cremated, ah still feel as though mah skin is trying tae crawl off ay mah body whenever ah look at the urn containing mah… _the_ “remains”. Ah cannae adequately describe the sensation.

 

Ye should see the looks ahm getting‘ fae some of these cunts in attendance ( _“The family resemblance is remarkable, Mr. Ferguson…”)_. The mixture of alarm, fear, resentment, and loathing, tempered with a veneer of civility--is…well, come tae think of it, is actually pretty close tae how everyone always looked at me…at _Bruce_. That will no’ do. Ah _need_ these people to like me, so ah smile politely, shake hands, and respond appropriately as ahm introduced around. Ah lay mah innate Scottish charm on thick and the hostility fades as they are, one by one, inevitably drawn intae mah orbit. Really, mah talents were wasted in the craft _\--_ I should have been an actor. Or maybe ah was right aw along: mah former colleagues are incompetents. It pains me a bit (no’ really) tae ken that it was no‘ aw joost wishful thinking or spite on mah part. And ah cannae help but feel a bit ay resentment that here ah went tae aw this trouble and they’re completely scoobied! Ah might well have gotten away wi‘ tellin‘ them ah was Sean Connery, after aw!

 

If it were no’ for the look on Carole's face, it would almost be funny.

 

Suddenly, ahm struck by the thought that it’s no’ that they’re clueless--it’s that they donnae care. They are only here because Bruce was polis and once this little affair is over, they will have done their duty and be shed ay Ol‘ Robbo once and for aw--ah’ll be nothing more than a cautionary tale _(“Donnae let the job get tae ye--you‘ll go bam and end up offin‘ yerself like Robbo”)_. They are glad he is gone--Bruce Robertson was someone they didnae give a shite aboot except for the trouble he brought on them. So much ay mah tame and energy put tae the task ay making that trouble. And for what? A life reduced tae nothin’ more than a wee pile ay ashes in an ugly vase, mostly likely tae be thrown oot in the rubbish. When ah really think aboot it, ah guess the sadness comes fae the fact that ah ken it’s still better than ah deserve.

 

Joost as ahm aboot tae shake of mah melancholy and start mingling with the crowd again, ah am approached by that wee cow, Amanda Drummond. Excuse me, mah _former colleague,_ Amanda (ah remember that she tried to help me, whatever her motivations might have been--she did try). - Mr…Ferguson, is it…? -

- Yes -

\- I just wanted tae introduce myself and offer my condolences. I'm Amanda Drummond. I was a colleague of Bruce’s. - she smiles and offers her hand.

Ah smile and take her dessicated hand - Pleasure tae meet you, Ms. Drummond. - the use of the “Ms.” pleases the cow… _woman_ greatly and she practically simpers at me.

\- I would say that I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Ferguson, but I understand that you and Bruce were not close…? -

- We'd never met him. Ah donnae live in Edinburgh. As ah told Carole, ahm here visiting…well, looking for work really--ah heard aboot Bruce’s passing and joost wanted tae pay mah respects. -

\- That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m sure that Carole appreciates having some of Bruce’s family here - she says. Then - Ah just cannae get over how much you look like Bruce. You could _be_ him for all of the resemblance. - _mah heart stutters a bit in mah chest._ \- It’s quite eerie tae be perfectly honest. So - she continues - How are you related tae Bruce? -

 

Ah have tae tamp doon  mah irritation at the cow (ah ken, ah ken, but cannae help it--ah joost donnae like the silly hoor) and her continued interrogation. But ah must be careful. If ah show fear or reluctance tae answer her questions she’ll ken that something is no’ right and start digging for answers--and ah cannae have that.

 

\- Ahm related tae Bruce on his mother’s side. The family is no’ close, so ah wasnae aware of the resemblance until ah met Carole today. Joost a trick of genetics, ah suppose. - at the word _'genetics'_ , ah seem tae feel a sense of amusement, not my own, flow through mah mind.  Ah have not felt the sense of another in mah head since The Worm left, so ah experience momentary spike of fear, but quickly shake it off and stay on task. - I near gave her a heart attack, ahm afraid. - Ah give the hoor a small, sad smile and the full force of mah eyes looking up through mah lashes.

Result! Much tae mah surprise, the cow lights up. Before, mah charms were always wasted on her. Hope ah dinnae hit her too hard wi it, then. Ah’d donnae want tae have tae fend off her advances--a cow scorned and aw.  Mind you at one tame, ah’d have given her wee paps a squeeze joost tae do her some guid, but now ahm joost not interested--even as an act of charity. Ah’ve got more important things on mah mind now. Ah push aside mah distaste and take her rat-clawed hand in mine - It was truly a pleasure tae meet you, Ms. Drummond (- Please. Call me Amanda…- ), but Carole was wanting me tae meet Stacey, so ah’d better go find her. -

\- Of course -- she simpers. - It was a pleasure tae meet you, too, Brian.  And if you need any assistance finding your way around Edinburgh, I would be happy tae help you. -

 

Ah bet you would, no' that ah'll be taking you up on it - Thank you, Amanda. You donnae ken how much ah appreciated your kind offer. -

 

Escape!

 

　

　

　

　

　


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian ponders his former life as he realizes just how much he has to make up for and he finally faces Stacey (who may, or may not, know more than she's letting on).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About 1/2 way through (I think)

8

 

Having narrowly escaped the clutches of the horse-faced _Ms._ Drummond, ah have tae take a moment tae get mah bearings. It pains me tae admit, but her questions have thrown me off a bit. Mah story is plausible, believable--but it willnae stand up tae intense scrutiny. If someone gets it intae their heid tae check up on Brian Ferguson, ahm done for. Ah didnae take intae consideration the natural curiosity of those in the craft, nor did ah factor in the added appeal ay office gossip. More accurately, ah didnae think they would care enough tae ask any questions. Ah figured they’d be rendered so uncomfortable by the visceral reminder of Bruce, that they’d try hard tae not acknowledge mah presence. Instead they seem disturbingly fascinated. At first, they look at me wi’ hatred which mellows intae something else when they donnae see in mah eyes what they expected tae see--Bruce looking back at them. Strange, or maybe not, that they care more for me than they ever did for Bruce.

 

Bruce was _their_ Worm. A parasite feeding on the misery and strife ay others. Knowing them inside and oot. Preying on their weaknesses tae give mahself substance. Shirley had the right ay me when she asked why ah seemed tae relish in other people‘s bad luck. But she never kenned that ah was so often the puppet-master, pulling strings tae create that bad luck and misery. That ah was compelled by forces ah dinnae understand tae destroy everything good.

 

Speaking ay Shirley, ah have no’ yet seen her. We parted on bad terms, she and I. Actually, ah parted on bad terms wi everyone. But there are those ah feel more guilt over than others. Shirley is one ay them. Bladesey another. Ah guess that since ah couldnae be happy, if nae one else was happy, perhaps ah wouldnae feel so…alone in mah own misery. A sad testament to mah life that ah spent so much ay it trying tae earn the love ay people who dinnae matter, like mah stepfather. Lost people who loved me, like mah beautiful Rhona or mah wee braer Stephen, to the cold arms ay Death. Worse, ah lost people who truly loved me in spite ay mahself, like Carole and wee Stacey, tae mah own selfishness and cruelty--rejecting them for people who dinnae deserve mah time, much less mah love. Something was truly wrong wi‘ me that even the love ay mah wife and bairn couldnae make me feel less alone.

 

And speaking of the bairn…

 

Carole is cautiously approaching me. Like I’m still Bruce and she’s as like tae see the back ay me hand as a welcoming smile. I smile nervously, no’ having tae fake mah nervousness. It seems tae put her somewhat at ease and she smiles back at me. God, she’s beautiful--age has taken nothing away fae her looks. I was such a fool tae no‘ appreciate every beautiful thing aboot her, inside and oot.

\- Brian - she says. Ah feel mah stomach knotting up, no’ sure what ah want tae hear fae her. - Ah spoke wi’ Stacey and she’d like tae meet you. -

A sweat breaks oot on mah palms. - Are you sure, Mrs. Robertson? Carole, I mean… - Ahm no’ sure ah can do this, but ah ken that ah have tae.

\- Ah think that it would be guid for her tae see you -

\- Awright, then - ah prepare mahself tae face the music - Let’s go. -

 

Carole leads the way through the hoose tae the back stairs, up tae the first floor, and down the hallway tae what was once the bairn’s room (and still is, it would seem). She knocks softly on the door - Stacey? - At first, nothing. Only silence. Joost as Carole gets ready tae knock again, ah hears light footsteps crossing the floor, then the sound of the latch turning and the door opening. Then suddenly, there she stands. Mah wee Stacey. It takes everything in me no’ tae fall tae mah knees and weep, begging her forgiveness for aw that she has suffered at mah hands. She looks up at me, so pale and quiet (a bairn shouldnae have that haggard, haunted look), and for joost a brief second, ah get the suspicion that she is no’ scoobied like everyone else--she **_kens_** and sees who ah really am. But then she smiles tentatively at me, at _Brian,_ and ah I breathe a sigh ay relief. She doesnae ken. She’d have never smiled at Bruce like that (tae mah shame).

 

Ah kneel doon in front ay her. - Hello, Stacey. Ahm Brian--your da‘s cousin. Thank you for meeting with me, ah ken it must no’ be easy -

She reaches oot and touches mah face, wonderingly - You look like mah da - she says - But your no’ mean like him - Ah want tae cry. Ah glance up at Carole and her eyes are wet. Ah want tae hold them both in mah arms and tell them that ahm sorry, but ah ken I cannae. Nae matter how much ah wish it, ah ken that I cannae change the past. Ah can only work forward and use this gift ah’ve been given tae try and right mah wrongs.

\- Nae. Ahm no’ mean. At least, ahm trying no’ to be. Trying tae be a better person, you ken? - Stacey considers this for a moment, looking at me over, then nods solemnly as if ah‘ve passed some sort of test. Still she stares at me for a moment (that niggling feeling that she _kens_ , strikes me again) before asking - Would you like tae see mah dolls? -

\- Why ah‘d be honored tae see your dollies. If it’s awright wi’ your mum, that is… - ah look up at Carole through mah lashes. Result! Carole blushes slightly then nods her assent and we aw walk intae the bairn‘s room.

\- Now, we cannae play long because we have guests - Carole says. Ah nod in understanding, as does Stacey.

 

So we sit doon at Stacey’s wee desk for a bit and ah start the long overdue process ay finally getting tae know mah own beautiful, clever daughter. Ah find oot much to both mah pleasure and dismay that Stacey has her old man’s talent for the craft. She’s sharp as a tack and has an innate sensibility aboot her. Ahm proud ay her, but ah’ll have tae watch mahself very carefully when she’s aboot. She’s quite observant. Ahm truly enjoying spending tame wi’ her, but aw the tame the thought is running through mah mind that I was such a fool tae no‘ appreciate what I had. Aw too soon, Carole is signaling that it’s tame tae go back doon and mingle wi’ the masses. Both Stacey and I are disappointed.

 

As we head back doon, Carole tells me how much she appreciates me talking wi’ wee Stacey. That is was guid for her tae see me. Then she asks aboot mah job hunting. Ah can truthfully tell her that ahm no’ having any luck (being that ah’ve no’ had the tame tae actually look for a job--been a bit occupied, heh!) but that ahm hoping tae find something soon. She asks me ah’ve been staying, and ah sense mah opportunity. Ah tell her the truth (of a sort)--that the place ah’ve been staying is gonnae be going up for sale and that ahm gonnae have tae move very soon and ahm no‘ sure where ahm going tae stay. She assumes that it’s tae do wi’ money (ah donnae correct her as it’s partly true). So making it seem like ahm doing her a favor, she asks if ah would be willing tae watch the hoose, since she and Stacey cannae live here. - Ah would feel better having someone watch the hoose. Bruce was polis and there are people who would vandalize the place if they knew it was sitting empty. -

\- Carole, ah donnae feel right taking advantage of you like that. You don’t even know me and ah cannae afford tae pay you rent - What am ah saying!? This is perfect!

\- It would really take a burden off ay mah mind if ah knew someone was here, Brian. And you’re family and you’re needing a place to stay. -

Ah have tae jump on it - At least, let me keep the place up. Mow the lawn, do any repairs that you need. Paint, whatever. Ah wouldnae feel like ah was freeloading at least -

Carole smiles at me--the first genuine smile ah’ve seen in far too long. It makes mah chest ache. - You donnae ken what this means tae me and Stacey. It’s been such a worry on me. -

\- Anything ah can do tae make things easier - ah say, meaning every word.

 

Stage One complete.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

　


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Brian's plans are coming to fruition better than he'd hoped. He manages to comfort Carole without letting Bruce take advantage of her. He is startled to discover that Stacey has her old man's intuition. Life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fics are not dead--they've just been sleeping, lol.

9

  
At long last, the day is done. All of the so-called ‘mourners’ (the few who bothered tae show, that is) have played their parts, departed, and returned tae their own homes already forgetting that Bruce Robertson ever existed, and Carole, Stacey, and I are all that remain (aside fae _the remains_ , that is). Carole looks run off her feet and Stacey is curled up on the couch next tae us, sleeping the deep slumber of the exhausted. Tae be honest, ahm feeling nane too spry mahself. It was more difficult than ah’d imagined, attending mah own funeral.  
\- Ah suppose you and Stacey will want tae be heading on oot and ah need tae be getting back tae mah room. Poor bairn’s aw done in. This had been a hard day for her. - ah look at Carole’s strained, exhausted face - And no’ joost Stacey ah ken.-  
\- Ahm fine, Brian - Carole lies.  
\- You donnae need tae lie tae me, Carole - ah say gently - Ah ken how hard this has been for you and ah ken that mah being here has no’ made it any easier for either ay you. Ah cannae tell you how sorry ah am for that. - Then Carole is in mah arms, greeting intae mah shoulder, and ah can do naught but hold her while she cries. Ah want tae tell her that everything will be awright, that ahm here for her and for Stacey. But how can I, when ahm the one (unbeknownst tae her) who is the cause ay her tears? Perhaps she is pretending just for a moment that ahm Bruce so that she can say her goodbyes tae him? What would she say if she knew that ah really was the same man who had caused her aw this pain? Would she hold me tight and tell me she loved me or would she curse mah very existence? Are her tears sorrow for what was? Regret for what could have been and will never be? Or joost relief that at last it’s finally over?

Overcome by combination of shame and longing, ah pull away, not looking at her--it wouldnae do for her tae see how hard ahm trying no’ tae cry. Ah pretend tae give her a moment tae collect herself so that ah can wipe at mah eyes. Mah shame deepens when she tries tae apologize tae me. No‘ thinking, ah take her face in mah hands, begging her - Please donnae apologize tae me. You’ve nothing tae be ashamed of, Carole. Ah’ve never seen anyone so strong. You’ve been through so much pain. Ahm joost glad ah could be here for you - As we gazes intae each other’s eyes, ah feel a wave ay tenderness and a gentle heat come over me, like ah‘ve never felt before--no‘ even wi‘ mah beautiful Rhona. Ah ken she feels it too, because her face is flushed--the first real hint ay color ah’ve seen--and her lips are parted ever so slightly. Ah want tae close the distance between us and kiss her, like ah should always have done. Ah know that she would welcome mah kiss. Holding her gaze, ah lean in tae close that distance. Then like a splash of icy water, comes the realization that it is not my kiss she that she’d be welcoming. Not my kiss that she’s wanting. It’s Bruce’s kiss. And ahm no’ (or nae longer) so cruel as tae let her relive that past (or so selfless as tae no’ be wanted for mahself--ah ken, again wi‘ the irony). It nearly kills me tae no‘ finish closing that distance, but somehow ah manage, and while ah see confusion and ay bit ay hurt in her eyes, ahm relieved tae see mostly gratitude. A weight lifts fae my chest and ah feel again as if ah’ve passed some sort ay test.

\- We should be getting on - Carole says, getting up fae the couch - Stacey has school tomorrow and as you said, she‘s had a hard day - We both look at the sleeping bairn.  
\- Of course - Ah gather mah things tae (pretend tae) leave. Carole looks over at me - Brian…ah meant what ah said aboot you keeping the hoose up for us while it’s for up sale. It truly would be a burden lifted fae me tae no’ have tae worry aboot it being vandalized or going tae ruin -  
\- Ah would be glad tae help you oot, Carole. And truthfully, your offer is a God-send, as ah’ve no had luck finding work, so far. It would really help me get back on mah feet. And like ah told you before, ah‘ll be happy tae keep up the lawn, do any repairs, anything you need tae make for no‘ being able tae pay rent or… -  
\- Brian, please! - she presses a key intae mah hand - Ah want tae help. If nothing else--today is the first tame in a long while that Stacey has smiled. You did that. For that alone, ah can never repay. -  
Ah feel my eyes getting hot again and that tightness in mah chest. - Thank you so much, Carole. Ah promise ah’ll take guid care of the place -  
\- Now we really must be going - she looks down at Stacey - Ah hate tae wake her, she looks so peaceful -  
\- Would you like for me tae carry her tae your car? -  
\- Yes, please. That would be such a help. Ah’ll go warm the car up. Ah’ll be right back.  
She puts oan her coat and runs ootside tae start the car. Ah gently scoop the sleeping bairn intae my arms and carry her toward the door. She stirs briefly, starting awake when her eyes open and she spies my coupon, ahm ashamed to see fear in her eyes. - It‘s ok, Stacey it‘s me, Brian--donnae be afraid. Ah can see her calm down as mah words register. - Brian…? - she asks confused.  
\- Yeah. Do ye remember me? - She smiles joost a little and ah can feel little bird wings fluttering in mah chest when she winds her tiny arms aboot mah neck and snuggles intae mah shoulder. Ah carry her oot tae the now-heated car and gently place her in the front seat (being careful to use the safety belt).

Ah tell Carole that ahm going tae gather mah things and come back tae spend the night in the hoose. She looks at me with her gorgeous dark eyes, still beautiful after all these years, and whispers, “Thank you.” Ah say mah goodbyes, for now, and wee Stacey hugs me and asks if she can visit. Ah cherish her hug and tell her that it’s her hoose and that she can visit anytime she wishes. She hugs me tighter, and mah heart nearly stops when ah hear her whisper, “Ah wish you was mah da’.” Again, Ahm hit with the feeling that she _**does**_ ken.  They both wave at me as Carole drives away.  Ah smile like a fool, amazed at how well all ay mah plan has worked out, so far.  We'll see how things go fae here.  

 

 


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian recovers from his hard day attending his own wake. He indulges in a bit of self-reflection, which lead to a bit of...er, self-discovery.

10

Once mah girls had gone and ah was alone, ah was hit by a wave ay exhaustion which took me quite by surprise wi‘ it‘s strength.  Sure, ah’d slept through the last night, but ah joost figured it was a one-tame thing--you ken, because of the…the…whatever it is what happened tae me.  Seems ah was wrong.  But, ah figured if ah was gonnae pass oot fae exhaustion, ah might as well take advantage ay being able tae sleep in a proper bed.  Ah couldnae bear tae sleep in mah old room--too many bad memories (and aw ay mah own making), so instead, ah decided tae sleep in Stacey’s old room.  Ah was shocked that it took aw ay mah energy joost tae crawl intae bed.  In spite ay the cold, ah dinnae even have the energy tae cover mahself wi’ a blanket.  In fact, ah believe ah was asleep before mah weary heid touched the pillow.

And once again, ah somehow managed tae sleep through the night.  No panic attacks. No bad dreams (come tae think ay it, nae dreams at aw--strange).  In retrospect, ah shoulda slept in mah wee attic nest.  In mah weariness, ah’d forgotten that the bairn’s room was oan the east side ay the hoose.  Ah donnae ken what ah did tae piss off the Sun (probably gave its wife a wee shag, heh!), but ahm quite rudely awakened fae mah sleep by the miserable cunt’s rays stabbing intae mah mince pies.  In return, ah give him a two-fingered salute as ah rise tae meet the day.  Nope, ahm still no’ a morning person, it would seem.

As ah climb intae the shower, ah happen tae catch a glimpse ay mahself in the mirror and cannae help but marvel.  Ah guess maybe part ay me expected it aw tae be a dream.  That ah would awaken an’ there would be the same old wee bastard that’s been staring back at me for the last decade or so.  But no.  The grey is indeed gone fae mah hair.  There are nae lines oan mah face.  Mah skin is still smooth and clear, and mah eyes bright.  Nae bags or darkness under mah eyes fae too much drink and Charlie, an’ no’ enough sleep.  Even more strange-- _more important-_ -there is no darkness _in_ mah eyes.  When ah had first seen mahself like this, mah thought was that ah looked liked ah did when ah was young. But in reality, ah had never looked like this--young, unburdened, unfettered (well, mostly). The closest ah suppose ah ever got was when ah was wi’ mah Rhona. It should’ve been like this wi’ Carole and wi’ Stacey, but by then ah was already too jaded, too far down the path tae the hell ah’d made for mahself.  Ahm no’ making excuses, mind you--joost simply stating a fact for the record.  Ahm beginning tae ken that part ay mah new life is accepting that nae matter how much ah wish tae turn back the clock and right every single one ay mah wrongs, there are gonnae be things ah cannae fix--and ah must learn fae those mistakes and move oan.  Learn tae _do_ better, learn tae _be_ better.  Even wi’ this new ootlook oan life, the universe, and everything--ah cannae help but feel that pang ay shame for the utter cock up ah made ay everything aroond me.  But, at the same tame, ah feel the thrill ay discovery thrumming through me--an eager anticipation tae see where this new life takes me and how it will aw play oot.  Something guid _will_ come fae the devastation left behind by the walking contagion that was Bruce Robertson.  Ah feel the truth ay this and see the conviction and determination in mah own eyes tae see it oot tae the end.  Ah willnae fook up this second chance that ah’ve been given.

But enough wi’ the wool-gathering.  The decadent pleasure of a hot shower now awaits me.  Pausing tae take a last look at mah reflection, ah give mahself a saucy wink and a wee cheeky grin (mah teeth are dazzlingly white).  Quite dashing--if ah do say so mahself.  Ahm nae poof, but even ah’d have tae gi’ mah sexy arse a second glance if ah saw me oot somewhere.  And apparently, ahm no’ alone in mah opinion--mah grin widens as ah look doon at mahself.  Seems Brian Ferguson is going tae be starting oot his day wi’ the tame-honored tradition ay a guid old-fashioned shower wank.

Stepping intae the shower and feeling the hot water sluicing over me, ah take mahself in hand, unable tae remember the last tame ah wanked joost for the joy ay it. There was always some need riding me, making it seem more ay a chore, rather than a pleasure (and ah can tell you the eczema had no’ helped matters any). Always done as the means to an end, never taking the bother tae enjoy the act for itself.  But no’ today.  Today is different.  Today, ah take mah time, slow and leisurely, making it last.  Ah gasp oot and shudder as the almost-forgotten sensation ay true desire curls through me.  Aye, this is _different_ , today--pleasure and sensuality, rather than desperation, being the name ay the game.  When ah finally let mahself come, it nearly takes me tae mah knees, it’s so guid.  Ah manage tae turn off the water before ah end up drowning mahself, then sag tae the floor near boneless wi‘ the after-glow.  Ah cannae believe how lazy and sated, yet energized, ah feel.  Normally, after a wank ah may feel a small measure ay relief, but never satisfied--always somehow left frustrated and wanting.  Oh well, what’s the song: If you can’t be wi’ the one you love, love the one you’re wi’…?  Well, ah think ah joost fell in love wi’ mah right hand.  Heh!  

Tame tae get mah lazy erse up and get started oan the day!  It's gonnae be a busy one!

 

 


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the help of a mysterious "Voice", Brian comes up with a solution (or as he calls it, "a massive load ay shite") for curtailing Amanda Drummond's romantic interest in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo from everyone's favorite telepath.

11

  
After mah refreshing shower, ah get mah lazy erse in gear and set aboot trying tae make a list ay aw the chores aboot the hoose that need doing. Ah donnae want Carole thinking that ahm joost gonnae free-load off ay her. There’s really no’ much tae do at the mo, though--the cleaning crew had done a fine job ay making the place habitable. Ah also need tae be trying tae find meself a job, or at least make a believable effort at it. It’s nae gonnae be easy tae find work, as ah’ve no credentials--being that Brian Ferguson didnae exist until yesterday. Ah have tae admit that ahm at a bit ay a loss as tae what tae do in that respect.

Mah musing are interrupted by a knock oan the door. Hoping that it’s perhaps Carole and Stacey, ah eagerly throw open the door, only tae be wildly disappointed as the horse face ay that wee hoor _Mssss_ …Amanda Drummond is revealed. - Mr. Ferguson..? Brian…? - she asks, nervously, noting the expression on mah face. - I hope you remember me…? Amanda…? -

\- Of course! Such a pleasure tae see you!- ah lie tae her, plastering a smile on mah face - Tae what do ah owe the pleasure ay your company, Ms. Drummond? -

\- Oh, please, Brian! Call me Amanda - she bleats at me, patting her hair, clearly on the prowl, for a bit a prime Scottish beef.

\- Please come in, Amanda. It’s much too cold tae stand ootside. - ah motion her intae the hoose, though ah’d much rather slam the door in her face, and ah offer tae make her a spot ay tea. Of course she eagerly accepts, nearly mowing me doon, so eager is she.  Ah donnae wish tae encourage her interest and ah desperately think of a way deflect her attention withoot angering her or arousing her suspicions.  As ah go aboot preparing our tea, ah suddenly feel that sense ay _‘otherness’_ in mah heid--much as ah did yesterday when ah had mentioned genetics.  This tame, ahm no’ frightened, because wi’ it comes the perfect solution for curtailing Amanda Drummond’s interest in Brian Ferguson. The ‘voice’, presence, otherness… _sounds_ like me in mah heid (if ah were English, God forbid), but the idea is most certainly no’ mah own. But ah reluctantly have tae admit, though, that it could work very well indeed--and in like situations, beggars cannae afford tae be choosers.

Over our tea, Amanda and I engage in a bit ay small talk, and as ah suspected, she soon gets aroond tae asking me tae go oan a date wi’ her. - Brian…? Would you be interested in having dinner with me this evening?  Ah donnae mean tae be forward, but there is joost something aboot you that is very appealing.  And tae be honest, you‘re the first real gentleman I‘ve met in a very long time.  Ah‘d like tae get tae know you better. -

Taking the advice ay _The Voice_ , ah look directly intae her eyes… - Amanda? May ah tell you something? - ah lean in and give her mah best vulnerable look.

\- Of course, Brian! -

\- Ah’d love tae have dinner wi’ you, Amanda, but first, ah must get this oaf mah chest--so that we donnae get oaf oan the wrong foot.  Ah wouldnae want tae lead you oan. - A frown puckers her brow as she senses that she’s aboot tae be rejected.  Ah must tread very carefully. - Amanda, ah’ve never told anyone this before, but ah feel as though ah can trust you. - Result! Her frown is easing oop a bit - Ah ken we donnae know each other, but in the short tame since we’ve been introduced, ah already feel so comfortable aroond you…and…and…ah could really use a friend. -

Success! The frown has completely lifted fae her face, replace wi’ concern, and she has her hand over mine, asking urgently - What is it, Brian? What is it that you need tae tell me? -

\- Well, ah said that ah’ve never been able tae tell anyone before, but one other person knows mah secret--and that secret, and that person, is the real reason that ahm now here in Edinburgh. - ah close mah eyes and _“confess”_ tae her - Ahm gay, Amanda. - (ah cannae believe this shite is coming oot ay mah mouth, but it seems tae be working, as she’s looking at me wi’ utter sympathy.) - Ah always knew deep doon that ah was gay, but when ah met Erik ( _why that name, ah’ve nae idea_ ), ah knew for sure. -

Amanda squeezes mah hand, bleating oot - Oh, Brian! You’ve nothing tae be ashamed of! -

Ah squeeze her hand back, and continue on, _The Voice_ giving me mah cues - Ah no’ ashamed ay being gay. Ahm ashamed that ah had an affair wi’ a married man.  The affair only lasted a short tame, though.  It was no’ a sexual affair, mind you. It was an affair ay the heart--mostly because ah could no’ handle the guilt of a true affair.  But still, ah ken it was wrong. My only excuse--and it’s no’ one really--is that, ah was in love for the first tame and ah thought he felt the same for me. Anyone looking at us would have seen it as nothing more than joost very close friends.  All pretty words and tame spent joost being taegether--talking philosophy, playing chess.  But make nae mistake--it was love.  At least, it was for me.  In the end, ah broke it oaf before things got oot ay hand.  Besides, ah had, by then, realized that he never really loved me--ah was joost a distraction for him.  It was too painful, hurt too much, tae stay in the same town--tae see him every day and have the constant reminder.  Ah had tae leave, had tae get oot. - Mah voice cracks convincingly at the end of mah tale (mah massive load ay shite).

Predictably, Amanda falls for it, completely (ah have tae admit, it did sound guid) - You poor darling!  Oh, you poor darling!  Ahm so sorry you had tae go through that all alone! -

\- You donnae ken how much it means tae me, Amanda, tae have a friend tae talk to. This has been such a burden oan me. You are a guid woman. -

She smiles at me, looking strangely radiant, and ah realize that ah mean what ah joost said: She really is a genuinely guid woman.

  
We continue talking over our tea, and our conversation naturally falls intae more normal, mundane subjects.  She asks aboot mah job hunting and, again, ah follow the advice ay _The Voice_ in heid (hasn‘t steered me wrong, so far), telling Amanda aboot Carole’s generous offer tae let me keep the hoose oop for her, and ah tell her that ahm waiting for mah papers and such tae come in the post any day, so that ah can start looking for work in earnest.  Ah have really nae idea what ahm blethering oan aboot, but ahm trusting  _The Voice_.  Much tae mah surprise, ah discover that Amanda and I have been blethering oan like the best ay friends and that ahm quite enjoying our wee chat.  Ahm actually disappointed when Amanda finally takes her leave.  We end making plans for dinner that evening, after all--her treat  (she insisted, as she kens ahm in financial straits).  Ah invite her tae ring or come ‘roond for tea anytime, no’ at all having tae fake mah sincerity.  Will wonders never cease? I guess confession (even if it's fake) really is guid for the soul.  Heh!

 


	12. Another Test Passed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, in which Brian feels like he's passed another hurdle on the road to leaving Bruce behind.

A couple ay weeks have awready passed me by, and...well, ah must say that things are goin’ along swimmingly for Brian Ferguson, so far—certainly much better than they ever went for Bruce Robertson.  True, that ah’ve had nae real challenges tae mah story as ay yet, but ahm feeling strangely confident that things are gonnae work oot—no’ joost for me, but for everyone involved.  Ahm doing guid things for a change:  helping Carole in a the small way ah can, getting tae ken mah Stacey a bit, and have made a life-long friend ay mah former nemesis, Amanda 'Call me Mandy--I insist' Drummond.  Now, ah‘ve joost got tae find a way tae make it oop tae Bladesey and Shirley.

 

But for now, ah've got other things tae oan mah mind.  Carole has joost rung to ask if she can stop by tae talk. Tells me tell me she’s needing a friend. Since she found oot that ahm “gay” (guid news travels fast, don’ ya ken...), she’s really been warming oop tae me.  God help me, ah’ve been fookin' friend-zoned. But it’s all for the greater good, so ah must deal wi’ it as part ay mah new persona.  As it is, Mandy, has been trying tae set me oop on blinds dates wi’ every gay man she kens.  So far, ah’ve been able tae put her oaf aboot it, but eventually ahm gonnae have tae do it, lest she get suspicious.  The best ah can hope for is that by the tame ah actually have tae go oan a date wi’ another bloke, ah’ll have been so long wi’ oot sex ah’ll be desperate enough tae fook anyone.  But that’s a problem for another day, thank God.

 

Carole finally arrives and ahm glad tae see that she’s brought Stacey ‘roond for a visit.  After running oop and giving me a rib-cracking hug (which ah will forever cherish), Stacey takes oaf tae her room tae play wi’ her dollies.  This leaves Carole and ah alone for a bit and Ah cannae help but notice that she looks strained.  Afraid that she is going tae bring oop the subject ay our almost-kiss the other night, ah head her oaf by asking her what was wrong.  Tae both mah despair and pleasure, she launches herself intae mah arms and begins greeting against mah shoulder, choking oot that her sister has cancer.

That was the news that Shirley had tried tae tell me aboot, but ah– _Bruce_ , rather–wouldnae listen.  Ah would have preferred tae assuage mah guilt by convincing mahself that it was her own fault—that she deserved it, that it was her penance for our affair.  Mine was the eczema and madness, Shirley’s was the cancer.  But ahm long past lying tae myself like that anymore.  It looks like me chance tae make things right wi’ Shirley might come sooner than expected, though I truly wish that it dinnae have tae like this.

It is hellish tae hold Carole in mah arms like this.  Ah hate that she is hurting.  Ah want so badly tae kiss away her pain, tae tell her that ah love her.  And ah ken that she wants it too, that she wants me tae take her tae bed and make her forget that her sister may be dying, but ah can’t.  Ah can’t do that tae her.  Besides, it’s nae me she’s wanting anyway.  It’s the comfort of familiar arms—Bruce’s arms.  Aw ah can do is tell her that it’s going tae be ok, and as before when she cried in my arms, ah joost hold her and let her greet until she’s wrung oot.

 

Again, ah get that sense that ah’ve passed some sort ay test...and a little more of what was once Bruce Robertson is exorcized from me.


End file.
